We had the pleasure of hosting an in-store with Halifax's Dog Day a few weeks ago, and now you can relive their performance visit by watching this video we shot! Their song "Rome" is embedded here, but check out our YouTube page for a couple more songs.

OK, this disc's been out for a while, but if anything, here's hoping a late but ringing endorsement of this fine disc gives it some new momentum. Because man, oh man, are Phoenix ever a great pop band. They're kind of like black licorice—candy, but the sort of sophisticated candy that I suspect many people have convinced themselves they don't like without actually ever trying really great black licorice. Where am I going with this? Phoenix's brand of pop is so finely honed and lacking in any sort of edge that it's rather tempting to dismiss them as thin, dry, and stale—like black Twizzlers.
But in truth, they're more like that Panda black licorice from Finland, or even the new PC Aussie-Style black licorice—rich, supple, soft, tender, and imbued with a surprising depth of flavour. And above all, not actually that sweet. It's the kind of stuff I could eat all day, and after three spins in a row of Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, I guess I figuratively just did. Mmmm, mmm.
(The Kitsune Tabloid mix-CD that the band recently curated is also a very deep and flavourful selection, albeit of other people's music, and is likewise highly recommended listening—V/A comp-repping ed.)

In the late '60s, Rockford, Illinois musical collective Pisces ran a studio that they used to produce a body of work that, had they lived in San Francisco or another city with a vibrant psychedelic scene, might have made some waves. Aside from geography, another key detail working against them was the fact that they never issued an album of their work. It's sad, really, because with their knowledge of production techniques and a skill for writing the kind of material that extrapolated, quite convincingly, from the key hallmarks of pop-psychedelia–heavily treated instruments, backward-masking, mixed male-female harmonies a la Jefferson Airplane, and an overall autumnal mood–it's easy to believe that had these songs coalesced into a proper album, they could have been contenders, regionally at the very least. The flanged-out “Mary” could be Os Mutantes backed by Jaki Liebezeit on drums, while the gentle folk of “Are You Changing In Your Time” marvelously boasts the talented vocals of Linda Bruner, who features on four tracks. The lost psych department trickles slowly these days, but you’d be wise to check this out, along with the recent reissue of The Golden Dawn’s Power Plant.

It's pretty damn ironic that in Nels Cline, Wilco hired arguably one of the most inventive and versatile avant-guitarists around just as they settled into the tamed, streamlined and elegant Sky Blue Sky. It was anyone's guess where the band would head next—would it be another left turn into impressionist/deconstructionist rock, or would they stay their new genteel course? This winkingly self-titled affair is certainly the latter, and so we're left with yet another opportunity missed to hear Cline burn the airwaves with the sextet, or so it would appear at first listen. Leadoff track "Wilco (The Song)" is seemingly so charmed with its own nudge-nudge-iness that it's frankly difficult to listen to. The record moves by at a brisk clip, with each song so perfectly contained that you're just dying for something, anything, to reach out and slap your ears. And then it does. The same cute refrain that drove you to distraction—"Wilco will love you, baby"—is burrowed deep like some sonic earwig. Put it on again, this time with more sensitive ears, and the record conveys some exceptional emotion. The subtle interplay of "Deeper Down" and "One Wing" is a marvel to hear; the sumptuous George Harrison nods of "You Never Know" perfectly realized. And "Bull Black Nova" is ultimately as dark, tense and foreboding as anything in their catalogue. Oh, and Feist sings in there somewhere, too. As for Cline, it's very much to his credit that he recognizes just what these songs need at every turn—both he and virtuoso drummer Glenn Kotche perform with understated excellence throughout. It's not Wilco's best, but it is maybe their most unassumingly great album. Give it a few tries and you'll have no problem returning their love.

Timber Timbre has long occupied a place in many hearts--a secret, dark, mysterious place, somewhere near the left ventricle, maybe. His first two releases, Cedar Shakes and Medicinals, were raw, atmosphere-soaked, rural woodsy songwriting at its best. For his latest self-titled set, Taylor Kirk steps calmly out of the wilderness and into the studio. With bold organ lines and warm guitar tones, he once again wows us with his spooky melodies and haunting vocals. Timber Timbre is one of those rare artists who manages absolute continuity between releases, yet adds plenty of variation to keep us fascinated. This album is sure to secure his spot in the old left ventricle, and hopefully finds him nestling into some new hearts, too.

This review first ran in January 2009 upon the release of Timber Timbre on Out of this Spark. On June 30th 2009, Timber Timbre is being re-released on Arts & Crafts, and will appear on vinyl for the first time.

Given the attention to detail and offhand scruffy polish at play, it makes perfect sense to learn that Floating Action is more a man than a band, one Seth Kauffman. Labelmates (and last year's best-in-shop bronzers) Dr. Dog have his back, glowingly referring to this self-titled debut as an "utter classic", and I wouldn't refute it in the least, especially if you happen to've already been taken by groups like The Bees or Dr. Dog themselves, bands that can't help but mix rock with tasteful touches of soul, country and even reggae (the LP version of this comes with a bonus dub EP, seen?). Like Bon Iver before him, Kauffman's lone-wolf production touch is as personal and distinctive as his songwriting, and could well make him much better known in the months ahead.

I really, really didn't want to admit it at the time, but Tortoise's last full-length, 2004's languid It's All Around You, was a big letdown. So many years of defending the Chicago quintet's esoteric (and up to that point, uniformly great) prog-jazz-electro had blinded me to the fact that the disc was sleek, but gutless—like some sonic IKEA catalogue. Five years later, the band returns and there's no need to be coy here: it's a killer. It's not as though the band has gone punk or lo-fi—engineer/drummer John McEntire's attention to detail would still embarrass a brain surgeon—but this reptile has a fire in its belly and savvy in its bones. "High Class Slim Came Floatin' In" kicks things off like a leaner, meaner reprise of '96's multi-suite classic "Djed"—albeit at a 1/3 of the running time. From there on in, it's pretty much golden. The burping martial synth of "Northern Something" is a definite highlight, as is return-to-form closer "Charteroak Foundation" and the bouncy, yet elegant "Gigantes." All in all, same old Tortoise for sure, just a little more muscular and purposeful. And playful too—the impossibly-named "Yinxianghechengqi" opens with the ubiquitous stock Wilhelm scream used in seemingly every action movie since the '50s, through to Star Wars and on. Nerds.

There is a timelessness about Sonic Youth that makes this title less a pompous declaration than simply a given. Sure, Kim and Thurston may call the suburbs home, but SY are still NYC cool all the way, babe. On The Eternal, the band firmly continues the renaissance that began with 2002's awesome Murray Street and was solidified further by '06's surprisingly poppy Rather Ripped. This might seem too easy a comparison given that they just severed a 20-year relationship with Geffen to return to their indie roots, but I find the album most reminiscent of the band's last two albums prior to signing with DGC, '88's Daydream Nation and 87's Sister. Is it as good as those? That's a tall order for sure, but much like Lou Reed's New York, The Eternal bears the marks of now- legendary artists embracing their own strongest qualities without shame or redundancy. In other words, Sonic Youth close out the '00s with an argument for it being as solid a decade as they've ever had.

When DJ David Holmes opened his tremendous Come Get It I Got It mix-comp with the eerie, psych-folk ode to drug-dealers “Sugar Man”, excited listeners perked up their ears wondering who this mysterious Rodriguez guy was. Having already developed a cult following in Australia, demand for a proper North American reissue of the failed American singer-songwriter’s two studio albums grew. For me, his debut Cold Fact, licensed to Light In The Attic last year, was a bit of a disappointment, possibly because there was no way the rest of the album could not live up to the promise of its centerpiece/masterpiece, the aforementioned “Sugar Man”. His follow-up, recorded a year later in 1971, though lacking anything as mind-altering as his signature song, is overall a much stronger album. Here the cynical troubadour’s attraction to seedy imagery (seemingly put-on, but charming nonetheless) is tempered with more tuneful and tender side on the best songs. His band is much more together this time around, giving his songs greater sense of groove, and the string arrangements are spare and always well-placed. After this record, he recorded no more but recent interest has led to his current tour. Check him out on the West Coast if you can Friday, July 3 at a free Harbourfront Centre show!

Not known as a hotbed of musical activity, nobody would have expected the excellent Soundway label to put a whole collection together spotlighting a country best know for its canal. Well, here they are with a surprising follow-up—surprising not only because the middling quality of the original may not have warranted a return record-hunting expedition, but also because part two has vindicated the project. The cuts on this collection, as with the first, reveal no sound that is particular to Panama except for an openness to pan-tropical idioms, funky grooves and some delightfully lo-fi recording techniques. Styles are mashed together with no regard for orthodoxy and it's on these tracks that this collection really comes to life. Cumbias take on an “eastern” sense of melody and vocal timbre; salsas feature guitar; and the calypsos sound nothing like calypso. In other words, the variety here will make this a fail-proof summer soundtrack.

This presumably final release to bear the Royal City name couldn't have come at a better time. Ten years after the band's formation and five years after their demise, 1999-2004 is a bittersweet offering for fans of the dearly departed Guelph quartet. Originally publicized in 2004, many thought this compilation of unreleased demos and rarities would never see the light of day after the closing of their label Three Gut Records in 2005. Thankfully, earlier this year Asthmatic Kitty announced they would be releasing the album--a fitting resting place for the band, alongside their friend and admirer Sufjan Stevens. Everything fans know and love about the band shines through in these songs, from singer Aaron Riches' gentle voice and plaintive lyrics to the subtle performances from the rest of band (which also included Jim Guthrie, Simon Osborne, Nathan Lawr, and later Lonnie James). It's an immaculate package which will help fill a void for all Royal City fans, but also give new listeners a chance to discover a band that is too often overlooked or forgotten. Here's to C-I-T-Y, Royal City.

There will be a tribute to Royal City happening June 26th at the Tranzac in Toronto, which is set to include performances from Andy Magoffin (Two-Minute Miracles), Chad Ross (Quest for Fire/Nordic Nomadic), Cry, Cry Papsmear, Evan (ex-Royal City) & Geordie Gordon (The Magic/Human Highway/Islands), Evening Hymns, Gavin Gardiner (The Wooden Sky), Gentleman Reg, I Am Robot and Proud, Jeff Peers (Anagram), Jenny Omnichord, Magali Meagher (Phonemes/Metal Kites), Nathan Lawr (ex-Royal City/FemBots), Scott-o-Bot (Ragg Mopp), Steven LuChuck (ex-We’re Marching On/Ohbijou), Woolly Leaves (Constantines), Bob Wiseman and more! 8PM, $10 with proceeds going to the Toronto Cat Rescue and the Tranzac.

Brooklyn's Woods were in town last month and stopped by our store to play a short set of songs from their recent album Songs of Shame. We made sure to capture some of it in case you weren't able to make it out. We've embedded "To Clean" above, but make sure to check out our YouTube page for two more tracks.

If you’ve lived in Toronto anytime during the last five years and you keep your ear anywhere close to the ground, chances are you’ve heard of Ohbijou. Though originally from nearby Brantford, singer Casey Mecija brought her project out of her bedroom and into the big city a few years back, swiftly recruiting like-minded individuals upon her arrival in Toronto. Since the release of their debut album Swift Feet for Troubling Times in 2006, the members of Ohbijou have been somewhat of a harbinger for those around them in the Toronto music scene. This has included hosting concerts at the Bellwoods house that various members have called home and helping organize and record the 2007 compilation Friends in Bellwoods (as well as the forthcoming Friends in Bellwoods II), a record showcasing friends of the band as well as their own individual projects. Although many of their peers have gone on to become known worldwide, Ohbijou have stuck around Toronto (while simultaneously finding time to tour Europe and the United States) and honed their craft. The years Ohbijou have spent in Toronto truly figure into their new album Beacons (Bathurst St. and Queen St. both get name checked), as do their recent travels (most of the album was recorded at a cottage on Muldrew Lake in Ontario and at the Banff Centre for the Arts in Alberta). It's been a long time coming, but the final result is well worth the wait. Beacons is a lush album, with all the beautiful melodies and instrumentation fans of the band have come to expect. Additionally, recently inked record deals at home (Last Gang) and in Europe (Bella Union) mean Ohbijou will be heard by more people than ever before.

It's very easy to see this record, New Orleans soul legend Toussaint's first real foray into jazz, as yet another tribute to that beleaguered city. And, well, it is, I suppose, but it's a lot more. The Bright Mississippi would have great significance even without any tragedy to give it false weight. Toussaint has long been renown for his deft elegance and lyrical style of playing—two traits that serve one especially well in the world of jazz. On this LP, he makes no mistakes. Surrounding himself with present-day luminaries ranging from Marc Ribot and Joshua Redman to pianist Brad Mehldau (duet partner on the gorgeous "Winin' Boy Blues"), Toussaint strolls through the early catalogue of ragtime and piano jazz with characteristic grace. Despite the excellent supporting cast, Toussaint is the central figure, even when he's not the lead. At all times, you feel the gentle guidance of his assured hands, imbuing even the saddest corners with generous accents of joy.

It still seems a bit weird to almost burn out on a record before it's even hit the shelves, but when an album this involving leaks two months before release and its fans are as voracious as Dirty Projectors', you run that risk. Undaunted, Bitte Orca's a strong enough set to hold up as what feels to this writer like the first leftfield indie-rock blockbuster of the year, what with Animal Collective not technically rocking these days (with few guitars to be heard as of late, in the studio at least) and Grizzly Bear's showmanship much more of a slowburn than the DPs'. By this point, you should know what you're in for here--the Malian R&B jams that arguably give many of Bamako's leading lights some stiff competition; Dave Longstreth's coy 'confession' to living "in a new construction home...on a strip beyond the dealership, yeah", before bulldozing down said suburbs, shifting shuffle meter and all, on personal fave "Temecula Sunrise"; the wall of wailed harmonies that particularly wallop at the mid-way drop-in break to title-refraining synthed-out scribbly centrepiece "Useful Chamber"--and summer for some of us music lovers has finally, truly arrived.

Much as our intrepid ears may try, we're never going to catch everything immediately upon (or before) its release; the ongoing flood of upcoming releases ensures that there'll always be some albums that we're a little late on the draw in checking out, even if the cover art or press copy might have caught our eyes and helped push a disc onto our "to listen to" pile, and Jewellery's one great, big, bouncy and rambunctious case in point, released on these shores back in March. 22-year-old Mica Levi's first full-length, backed by her primary-patterned Shapes, is an innovative and extremely catchy set of modern 2-step-schooled skiffle, precociously playing with song structure and production value, but never at the expense of a hummable tune. Fans of Dry/Rid Of Me/4-Track Demos-era PJ Harvey, producer Matthew Herbert's work with Dani Siciliano, and fellow early-twenties young'uns Born Ruffians and Lykke Li should find something special about Micachu, that rare brand of British talent that both The Wire and NME might be watching for a while to come.

Indeed it is...frightening how appropriate it is that this album be produced by Spoon mainman Britt Daniel given how much this band draws from his template. Even the font choice and photo style on the cover feels Spoon-y. But even after you've acknowledged that this marriage may fit just a little too well, this lean slice of indie-pop redeems itself through sheer will. Much like the straight-up rock displayed by Athens, GA trio The Whigs on last year's excellent Mission Control, White Rabbits convey heartfelt passion with every little note to the point where denying it just feels cruel, joyless and plain stupid. And there's even more in their favour, and it's in this area where Daniel's lesson has been best absorbed—a little thing called tasteful arrangements. Whether it's the blistering force of "Percussion Gun" or the languid drift of "Company I Keep", it's tough to believe at times that this is a sextet because no one overplays their hand. Any time a collision of too many instruments seems imminent, each member dances out of another's way at the last possible second. It's this display of skill that makes White Rabbits truly worthy of your attention—and fun to listen to, too.

The artwork for Think About Life’s sophomore album Family shows the three band-members (vocalist Martin Cesar, keyboardist Graham Van Pelt and drummer Matt Shane) sitting on a Persian rug at Friendship Cove, the venerable Montreal venue where parts of this album were recorded and where 2/3 of the band used to live. Behind them hangs a green screen backdrop, which has been Photoshopped to show different scenes, including a marsh, a beach, and a waterfall. The way they’re sitting makes it look like they’re posing for a family portrait, which is fitting considering the name of the album. Besides that, the artwork is slightly ridiculous, though still pretty amazing. You may be wondering, “Alright, you like the artwork, but what about the music?” Okay, sorry. This album is fun, catchy, and 100%-danceable. I find myself walking around the street humming “Sweet Sixteen” on a daily basis. This might just be the strongest album I’ve heard all year, from start to finish. This is all coming from someone who doesn’t really dance, and who primarily sits at home listening to slowcore and brooding alone in my bedroom, so this album is a bit of a coup d'état for me. Instead of resisting the urge to revel, I’m going to embrace the new outlook on life this album has provided me. Soon you’ll see me walking down College with a neon t-shirt, oversized sunglasses and a copy of Family blasting from my ghetto blaster. Won’t you join me?

Attack In Black used to play hardcore music, but over the course of three full-lengths and a few EPs, they’ve transformed into a folk-rock force to be reckoned with. Nevertheless, most people know them for their song "Young Leaves," which was a staple on mainstream rock radio a few years back. If you were to attend a recent AIB concert, you wouldn’t hear that song. In fact, you would be lucky to hear many songs from that album (2007’s debut LP Marriage). Instead, you would hear some electrified versions of songs from their vinyl-only follow up to Marriage, the home-recorded acoustic album The Curve of the Earth, plus a lot of songs from their newest album Years (by one thousand fingertips). Trust me, this is excellent news. Not that Marriage was a bad album, but it was made before the band has really found their voice. Rather, voices. Until The Curve of the Earth, Dan Romano was the only singer in the band, and he sang in a rough, aggressive style, which was fine for music they were making at the time. Since they’ve mellowed out, all the other members (guitarist Spencer Burton, drummer Ian Romano and bassist Ian Kehoe) have taken a turn at the microphone, which adds a welcome dimension to the band. On Years, which was recorded entirely in the Romanos' parents' basement in Welland, ON and at friend Shotgun Jimmie’s farm in Sackville, NB, Attack In Black complete their transformation from radio-friendly punks to lo-fi indie-rockers. With this transition, hopefully people who had them pigeonholed will give them another listen, since a band this talented deserves a second chance.

It’s hard to believe that Iron And Wine has just released a 2-CD/3-LP collection of B-sides and rarities. Most artists require a bit more time to amass enough songs for such a large collection, but not Samuel Beam. While his debut album was released in 2002, it wasn’t until his follow-up (2004’s Our Endless Numbered Days) that he truly became a household indie name. Since then he’s been a busy (and ever more bearded) man, with a series of EPs (including 2006’s marvelous collaboration with Calexico In The Reins) and another full-length now under his well-worn belt. Still, at 23 tracks, Around The Well is an impressive compilation and proof that the last few years have been quite productive for the fecund Austin-based singer-songwriter. From never-before heard early recordings to covers of songs by The Flaming Lips, The Postal Service and New Order to songs from movie soundtracks (“The Trapeze Swinger” was recorded for the 2004 film In Good Company - luckily the song is far more memorable than Topher Grace’s performance) all the way to tracks from 2007's The Shepherd’s Dog sessions, fans will find a lot to love here. It won’t take long for these songs to make their way on to the next mix-tape you’re going to make for the cute boy/girl down the way that you’re too nervous to talk to.